Heavy Realism
by LASTkNIGHT
Summary: There's a certain scene in Heavy Rain which some seem to think is 'more realistic' than people give it credit for. This infamous scene is injected with heavy bit of realism. M: because of the sexy.


_"The context of the scene is unsettling, happening not at the beginning, but as the search for Ethan's son nears its _climax_. It's an _inconvenient_ and _irrational_ moment to pause for sex, but that too has a kernel of truth in it. It might be a _stretch_ to imagine sex being a _priority_ for someone whose child is in the hands of a serial killer, but on the other hand sex happens in bathrooms, parks, taxis, funeral homes, conference rooms, between friends, strangers, sworn enemies, and _sometimes_ even people who care about each other. Heavy Rain is an imperfect assembly of ideas, vicarious control inputs, and intimacy which puts it closer to an honest rendering of the act than any other game..."_ -** IGN **_"**Year in Sex 2010**_"

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><p><em>"Saving Shaun is all that matters now."<em> - **Ethan Mars**,**_ a moment before having sex_**.

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><p>Madison moves in to kiss Ethan, he's hesitant at first. His son is still missing, and to the best of his knowledge, he could be dead soon - hell he could be dead now. What's the point thinking about it? He moves in to press his lips against hers. They're soft and moist, but warm, not like the drops thumping at the windows, taunting him. Reminding him of his missing son. He tries to shut them out. He pushes forward, kissing her more passionately.<p>

They both stop for a second to look at each other, wondering if it's right. They decide it is; quickly, re-embracing. In fact, their conviction is amplified. They begin to pet at each other more fiercely.

Ethan lifts himself to fondle her figure, and she submits to him fully. He strokes her back. She's covered in a hefty layer of clothing, a leather motorcycle jacket. It's irritating him. So he prepares to unzip it, from the bottom up. A sharp pain shoots up his right arm. "Ah" he says, she barely notices. He pushes her Jacket off. "Ow." he says this time, as it falls to the floor.

"What's wrong?" She asks politely.

"Nothing." he says, while his shoulder stings. So they continue. He reaches down to unzip his pants, as she moves toward him to lift his shirt over his head. The ringing pain shoots across his entire body, like an electric current, from his bandaged cuts and burn marks, to his aching muscles - his cracked ribs sting, they feel compressed against his lungs, like he can't breath; with his arms above his head. "SHIT!"He screams gasping for air.

"Ethan are you okay."

"Nothing... It's just... I'm in... a lot of pain."

"Do you think you can... ya know... finish?"

He's shocked at her near callous disregard for his comfort at first, but he simply shrugs, "Yeah, I think so."

"Good." she slides her hand across his back. Which causes him great displeasure, he'd landed hard on it at least three times since his car accident - which nearly broke it. It was a wonder he could move at all, let alone perform in bed. He clasped his hands fervently around her, just above the hips, to remove her top. A searing pain penetrated the stub were his pinky once resided, blood rushes there, staining his once clean bandage. He struggles to get her bra off, but with his forearm sprinkled across with fresh cuts on the one hand, and a missing pinky on the other, as well as - once again - having to use his overbearing shoulder blades to perform a task, this simple act becomes an exercise in futility. "I'm sorry, I can't."

"I understand..." Madison laments "This was stupid of me, you have to get going - your son -"

"No, I mean, I can't get your bra off. I'm in too much pain." he says hunched over.

"Oh..." she pauses. Then in a sexy voice she says "Let me help you." stripping it off herself.

Ethan then embraces her, delicately of course. Mostly to ease himself.

By the time they've gotten onto the floor, he's positioned himself on top of her. Quite a gallant place to settle, he begins grinding and pawing away at her. Trying to ignore the pain barely masked by medication.

Once they've both removed their lower layers of clothing, he starts pumping, but Madison looks unresponsive, with each flappy slap of skin against skin. "Is something wrong?" she asks, irritated.

He's so numb he can hardly tell, he's not really sure what she's talking about. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Ethan. It's not... together."

He realizes he's been beating against her exposed crotch with cold wet hotdog. "I'm sorry." he says.

"No, it's okay." she thinks out loud, afterall; it does make sense. With her hand, she does her best to service him, while he remains as stationary as possible. Once he's ready she pulls him inward as hard as she can. "There, now show me what you can really do." she giggles as she kisses him.

He pumps away, with as much intensity as he can muster, which at this point, is much less than it sounds. He groans in agony as his back reacts to a final stroke by completely seizing up on him, his neck tightens above the shoulder blades, shooting right up into his jaw, which clenches shut. His eyes roll back, as blood rushes up to his head, everything goes black and a stream of vomit exits his throat. He passes out just over Madison's right shoulder, the warm acidic pool of vomit coating the silhouette of her exposed neck settling... creeping under her arm, and her back. "Ethan, Ethan!" she tries to wake him as he lay erect inside her, though it does begin to wither slowly, as she realises this might not have been the best of ideas. 'I really hope we find that kid now.'


End file.
